


Broken Shards of Light

by Pufalup



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Infinity War, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Everybody Dies, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Made For Each Other, Mutual Pining, Sad Ending, friends - Freeform, lovesick Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-06 06:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17340299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pufalup/pseuds/Pufalup
Summary: Bucky has been in love with Steve since... as long as he can remember. It's an understatement to say that he's excited for Steve to come to Wakanda, even if it is just for a battle. They've always survived before, surely they'll do it again, right?Or, an alternate universe for how the Battle of Wakanda could've ended.





	Broken Shards of Light

**Author's Note:**

> 'Hey guys! As you can see, this is my first time posting something to AO3, and I'm pretty excited! This is a prompt I've been wanting to do for a while, and now school has let up enough for me to finish. I hope you enjoy the story!

Bucky opens his eyes at the crack of dawn, squinting out of the hole in the wall to see a milky sky turning rosy at the edges. He doesn’t have to start helping out for another hour or so, so why not watch the sunrise? The conversation he had had with T’Challa the night before played over in his head. He had memorised every detail from what T’Challa had said, including Steve’s ETA, where he would be staying if necessary, and how he would get there. Basically, everything that had to do with Steve.

He sighs, his thoughts swirling around Steve. He remembers skinny Steve, _his Steve_ , all hard angles and jutting bones. He remembers coming home from a hard day at the docks, only to find that they can only buy potatoes and maybe beans for the following week. He remembers long, cold nights in their apartment, cuddled up together in the only bed they could afford. He remembers wrapping Steve up with his body under four scratchy, thin blankets, and Steve still shivering. He remembers dating girls to try to get rid of the flutter in his chest when Steve smiled, and the racing pulse of his heartbeat when Steve slept in his arms. He remembers wishing he wasn’t in love with his best friend. He remembers all of it.

Bucky stares at the ceiling of the hut he calls home, wishing he had the courage to tell Steve how he feels. Steve had always been his weakness. He could never keep his heart steady, and he could never leave Steve alone for more than five minutes at at time without missing him dearly. He was like a schoolgirl in love.

So he dated dames. He put on the mask labeled ‘Ladies Man’ and wore it proudly. He hid his love for Steve behind that mask, and kept it there. Bucky knew that the girls were all over him, so he took one home at least once a week. He thought that maybe sleeping with girls would get rid of his confusing feelings, but it just made them worse. He couldn’t help but mentally blur the breathy, high pitched moans that they let out with Steve’s voice, or think about how Steve would feel around him. When he came, he was always thinking about Steve.

Only now, he’s a broken mess of a man. HYDRA dug out his brain and put it in a blender. Then they did it again. And again. Bucky was left crying for Steve at night, and even after Steve was taken from him, Bucky would still dream of messy blond hair and blue eyes as deep as the ocean.

When he had gotten his mind back, or at least fragments of it, the first thing he remembered was Steve’s name. It was the sound that ripped from his throat when Steve had fallen into the Potomac, and it was the comfort that kept him going while he was on his own. He got a job, got an apartment, and started to rebuild his life around the broken rubble that was once Bucky Barnes.

That is, until Steve showed up once again, and Bucky was hit with all the love he had hidden so neatly with enough force to knock him off his feet. He missed Steve so much it _hurt_ , so he went with him.

Turns out, that meant that he had to watch Steve kiss Peggy Carter’s niece right in front of him. He didn’t know it would hurt that much. He remembered Steve falling for Peggy, but somehow this was worse. Maybe because it was her fucking niece. It was at that moment when Bucky lost all hope he had once had that Steve loved him too, because Steve always has been and always will be _just his friend._ So he had plastered on a supportive grin that he hoped was convincing, just to see Steve smile so sweetly. He just wished that that smile was for him.

Then the whole mess with Howard Stark’s son had happened. The whole fight with Steve’s team, and then the quinjet ride. It was the first time he had been alone with Steve, and he saw a million and one opportunities to just say ‘I love you’, even if he knew that Steve wouldn’t say it back. He had wanted to hug Steve; he had wanted to pull him close and never let go.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, furrowing his brow. He thinks of how much he wants to gaze into Steve’s eyes, and how much he wants to taste his lips. God, he wants to taste his lips so badly. Maybe just a fleeting peck would be enough, but Bucky knows he would want- he would _need_ -more than that. He would want to lock his lips to Steve’s, and he would want to kiss him until his lips were swollen and red, and then he’d want to kiss him some more.

The sky is getting too light to stay in bed, and Bucky knows he has to get up. He doesn’t want to leave the fantasy of Steve he’d created in his mind. Who knew that his imagination, _the same one that HYDRA used as a weapon,_ could create such beautiful images.

He hears the younger members of the border tribe waking in the huts around his, and grumbles sullenly. He throws off his blankets, and sways on his feet. The room spins as he locates his water bottle and promptly downs half of it before wiping his mouth and taking a shaky breath.

He brushes his teeth slowly, nostalgia and longing making his limbs feel tired and numb. There are clean robes that he had laid out for himself the night before, all folded up neatly, just like the rest of his cabin. The robes are heavy on his bare skin, seemingly heavier than usual. The air seems heavy, too. Everything does this morning. He wraps the delicate blue sling around the nub where his arm used to be. The white, puffy clouds are heavy outside the window, and the grass seems to droop under their weight.

Bucky doesn’t know why he feels like this. He’s going to see _Steve_ for God’s sake! He should be over the moon!

But he isn’t. Instead, he feels _wrong._

Bucky had always been a little guilty about how much he loved Steve. Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s why he’s so sad.

Except it feels different.

He’s out of the cabin when the golden morning sun begins to blanket the landscape in glowing hues. The goats he tends to are sleeping around the same grove, in the same places, cradled by the same haystacks. The feed is stacked under the same tree beside the first one, in the same place. He robotically takes one, two, three, four, five bags, tossing each into a peeling wheelbarrow with accuracy that only comes from a painful amount of repetition.

The youngers of the tribe have come to sit in the tree and watch him, just like every day before. They stare and gawk at the man with white skin, or the ‘White Wolf’, as they like to say.

That’s when Bucky spots them. T’Challa, flanked by his bodyguard, and two warriors draped in expertly designed armor in tow. They carry a box between them, and Bucky already knows what the little _gift_ is.

They drop the box in front of Bucky. One of them unlatches it, and it swings open with a satisfying _click._ The warrior steps back, and Bucky approaches the box as if it might jump out and bite him. Inside is, no surprise, another metal arm. In between each of the plates is a gold lining that catches the sun’s glittering light.

Bucky swallows. “Where’s the fight.” He says it like a statement.

T’Challa must sense his discomfort. “On it’s way,” is all he says. He turns away, his warriors following him. Bucky’s gaze darts around a bit, because _is anyone going to help me put my arm on?_

One of the warriors glances over his shoulder. “The princess will help you put it on.” He states.

Bucky raises his eyebrow, but closes the box anyway and follows after T’Challa.

 

“So,” Shuri says as Bucky gets into the chair. They’re alone in her workshop, which is leaps and bounds ahead of anything that he’d ever seen. While he was still staying in the palace, he had spent a _lot_ of time in here, pestering Shuri about her new tech and how it worked. The two had grown close throughout his time here, and she would always hit him with references to things he didn’t understand. Eventually, he gave up and started looking at these new things called ‘memes’? He really doesn’t know. “Ready to get _armed?_ ” She says, grinning.

Bucky groans and puts his hand over his forehead while Shuri laughs hysterically. “Oh my god.”

“Come on, that was good.” She insists. Slowly, a bigger grin spreads over her face, and Bucky braces himself. “I bet you’d give your left arm to hear another.”

“Shuri oh my god.” He says, laughing in spite of himself.

Shuri flashes him a million dollar smile, and turns to the arm. “Alright, let’s get started.” She pulls the arm out of the box, and hauls it over to the table next to him. “So to get this on, we’ll have to fit a socket over your shoulder first, which we’ll have to mold, and then we can get it hooked up. Sound okay?”

Bucky nods weakly. Shuri lays her hand on Bucky’s bare shoulder, and he looks up at her. “Listen, you’re okay. I’ll check in with you over every step of the process, and we’ll go nice and slow.” She pauses, before continuing on reassuringly. “No one will hurt you here, Bucky.”

Bucky smiles small, reaching up to lay his hand over Shuri’s, and gives it a light squeeze. “Thank you.” He says quietly.

Shuri looks touched for a second, before her natural light smile returns to her face. “No need to blubber all over me, Barnes.” She teases, before changing the subject. “So, you’re gonna see your boyfriend today.”

Shuri had known since he first started telling stories about him and Steve that Bucky was in love with him. Bucky didn’t know how, but she had just figured it out, and kept at it even when Bucky outright denied it. She had said that she could see it clear as day on his face when he talked, but Bucky knew it was more than that. At least he _hoped,_ because he refused to believe that he was that obvious, so Bucky just stopped denying it.

“Yeah,” He says, probably a bit too longingly.

Shuri glances down at him while her hands fly over extremely complicated technology that Bucky can’t _begin_ to understand. “You excited?”

Bucky rests his head back against the sloped chair. “Shuri, nothing’s gonna happen.”

Shuri scoffs. “You don’t know that,” She says suggestively, bringing the piece over to the arm resting on the table beside his chair. She opens up a panel on the outside of the arm, and begins attaching wires efficiently. “He _did_ announce that he was bisexual two years ago.”

“Okay, but _bisexual_ does not mean _attracted to my oldest friend_ ” Bucky sasses, making Shuri roll her eyes at him.

“Oh come _on_ , Bucky. From the stories I heard about him, he sounds like he could be.” She chuckles at his slight blush, and continues with her task.

“But even if he is, I don’t want to lose our friendship because I have a stupid crush. It’s not worth it.” Bucky sighs regretfully.

Shuri side-eyes him. “You’ve been in love with him for eighty years. He’s all you’ve ever wanted.” She says slowly. “Sounds pretty _worth it_ to me.”

She trots off to some other corner of her workshop to get something, leaving Bucky lying in the chair, red as a tomato and glowering at nothing.

She returns a minute later with some darkly-colored ointment of some kind in her hand. “I’m going to spread this in a thick layer over your shoulder. Once it dries, which it will do quickly, I promise, it will communicate with this,” She points to a similar black covering on the socket she’d been assembling a moment earlier. “And translate the signal from the nerves in your shoulder into a language that the arm will understand, and will respond accordingly to. Now, the process won’t be instantaneous, so we’ll have to do some adjusting.”

Bucky nods confusedly while Shuri continues. “This stuff will mold to your arm and harden so that it can talk to the materiel here.” She holds up the socket.

She pauses for a moment. “Ready to get started?” She says cheerfully, but with an undertone of hesitation.

Bucky nods, his jaw clamped firmly shut.

With two fingers, Shuri spreads the goop over the nub of his shoulder. They chat idly throughout the process of assembling his arm. Shuri teases Bucky and Bucky teases right back. He hadn’t known friendly banter between him and someone he wasn’t in love with in a long time, and it felt good. He’s glad that he has a friend that he trusts who isn’t out of her time.

  
  


Bucky waits behind T’Challa’s warriors nervously, his palm sweating. He fiddles with the edge of his outfit, furrowing his brow. His heart shouldn’t be beating as fast as it is; it’s just Steve, goddamnit. There’s a little spot in the sky, which could be them? Last time he thought that, it was a bird. And the time before that. And before that. Bucky rolls his shoulders, which feel tight and restricted in his new uniform. They always do.

This time, it seems to _actually_ be the jet. Bucky thinks he’s going to have a heart attack at the rushing pace of his pulse. The quinjet lands, sliding seamlessly into the landing pad like it was built for it, which, it probably was. Steve strides out of the hanger, Natasha beside him, and Bruce, Rhodey, Wanda, and Vision in tow.

“Looks like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve says, a smile playing at his lips as he greets T’Challa and holy shit, Steve is _unfairly_ hot with a beard. Bruce clears his throat and begins bowing awkwardly.

T’Challa chuckles lightly. “We don’t do that here.” He says. He turns to walk towards the main building, and Steve’s team follows. “So, how big of an assault are we expecting?” He asks no one in particular.

Bruce leans in from behind Steve. “Um, sir, I think you should expect quite a big assault.” He deadpans.

“How’re we looking?” Natasha asks, just barely shy of interrupting Bruce.

T’Challa doesn’t look at her when he answers. “You’ll have my Kingsguard, the border tribe, the Dora Milaje, and-”

“And a semi-stable hundred year old man.” Bucky finishes, smiling coyly in Steve’s direction. He barely glances at the rest of the team.

Steve returns his smile, pulling him into a tight hug, and goddamn Bucky wants to stay in his arms forever. He probably would have held on longer if they didn’t have so many spectators. “How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks softly.

Bucky tilts his head to the side, stealing his chance to clear his blush by looking down and hiding behind a curtain of hair. “Ah, not bad,” Bucky meets Steve’s eyes, which are _still just as blue,_ and immediately has to look away because he thought his crush would take a _little bit longer than two seconds to come back._ “For the end of the world.” He finishes.

Steve holds Bucky’s gaze for a moment longer maybe than necessary before T’Challa clears his throat. “If you two boys are done, we have important matters to attend to.”

Bucky knits his brow and drops Steve’s gaze in embarrassment, and Steve scratches the back of his head. “Right. Vision.”

Shuri pokes her head out of a door to the palace with her classic smile. “This way, boys.” She looks over at Steve and Bucky, who keep stealing glances at each other, and rolls her eyes. “Captain, if you’d leave your _boyfriend_ for a moment, there is a member of your team dying and his life is in my hands.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as her words flow from her, radiating sass. Steve blushes a deep red chews his lip, aaand now Bucky is thinking about his lips. “Yeah, uh, I should,” Steve gestures to the team, and Natasha has already followed the princess through the door, no doubt already having thrown a sarcastic eye roll in their direction. “You know, get going.”

Bucky nods. As Steve turns to leave, Bucky catches his wrist. “Meet me here later?” He blurts. “I’ll show you around the city?”

Steve smiles in that way that makes Bucky’s knees go weak. _He’s so close,_ Bucky could just reach out and take a kiss. “That sounds great, Buck.” Is it his imagination or did Steve just glance down at his lips? “I’d love to spend some time with you.”

Then Steve is slipping out of his grasp, and following the rest of his team into the building. Bucky is left just standing there, no doubt blushing furiously, because _what the hell just happened?_

“Ooh, someone’s got the hots for Cap,” A voice behind him taunts.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Oh shut up, Wilson.”

Sam comes over to stand beside him, his goggles dangling from his left hand. “Can’t say I blame ya. That man is _hot._ ”

Bucky’s heart rate is increasing steadily, but he shrugs. “I guess,” He replies stiffly.

Sam smirks at Bucky, still facing away from him. “I wonder how he would look naked.”

Bucky feels his face heating up as he realizes _exactly_ what Sam’s doing. “Sam,” He says, a hint of a warning creeping into his voice.

Sam doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he certainly doesn’t care. “All those hard and defined muscles,”

“Sam!” Bucky says more sharply this time, but there are hints of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I bet they’re smooth as marble, wouldn’t it be so good to-”

Bucky swings his gun off of his back and whacks Sam across the back of his head in one smooth motion. Sam promptly begins giggling his head off, and Bucky is doing his best to give him a death glare, but he’s grinning too.

“I bet his lips are as soft as silk,” Sam taunts, relentless, and Bucky tackles him. He manages to fight against Bucky for a grand total of four seconds before he’s been pinned. Sam blows out a breath. “Fine, you win. Just promise me one thing.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Okay, what?” He gets off of Sam, and holds out a hand to help him up.

“Promise you’ll tell Steve how you feel.” When Bucky doesn’t respond, Sam presses on, an air of gentleness in his words that Bucky had only heard him use at the VA. “When this is all over, come home with us and Steve, and tell him how you feel.”

Bucky releases his hand and looks away. “Why does it matter?”

Sam cocks an eyebrow. “Because Steve has been a whiney depressed shit ever since you left.”

A genuine bark of laughter releases from Bucky’s chest, startling both boys. There is a moment’s pause, and they just look into each other's eyes for a moment, before they burst into another fresh bout of laughter.

Bucky doesn’t ever remember having this kind of brotherly relationship with anyone but Steve before, and he basks in how _nice_ it feels to just laugh with someone he’s not currently falling head over heels for. He wishes it could go on forever.

“Oh no, what’s so funny?” Rhodey says from behind them, on the edge of exasperated. His War Machine suit clicks and whirs as he approaches the laughing pair.

“Nothin’,” Sam wheezes, voice unsteady from his excessive giggling.

“No, no don’t you dare!” Bucky starts, pointing a finger accusingly at Sam.

“Bucky here’s just in love with Cap.”

“Sam, no!” Bucky covers his face with his hands. There’s a moment of suspense, before Rhodey starts cracking up.

He takes off his helmet, and he looks like he’s about to pee himself. “Our Cap? Captain America?” He tips his head back in a fit of laughter. “Oh my god, Barnes.”

“I know, you don’t have to remind me.” Bucky says, more embarrassed than he’d been in a long time, but also much more happy.

Of course, the end of the world has to start _just then_ , when a huge looming shadow appears above them.

“Uh, guys? What is that?” Rhodey askes, his words mirroring the two other men’s thoughts.

Sam turns on his intercom. “Cap, we got incoming.”

Bucky looks up as a earth-shattering _crash_ floods the rolling hills in Wakanda City. The spaceship- by the looks of it -has crashed into the protective dome around Wakanda, and burning parts are flying everywhere. Bucky can’t help but whisper, “God, I love this place.” out loud at the sight of it.

Rhodey pops his helmet on. “Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet guys, we got more incoming outside the dome!”

He’s right, there are at least _five other spaceships_ barreling straight toward earth, and God knows Bucky sure as hell doesn’t want to find out what’s inside them.

Bucky turns on his own com. “Where do we meet you guys?”

  


Bucky is on some type of flying car? He honestly doesn’t know. They’re standing, for one thing, and on his “car” are Natasha, T’Challa, Steve, and about thirty other warriors. Bucky stands to the left of Steve, his flesh arm brushing Steve’s gloved hand. The ride to the outskirts of the city isn’t bad, about ten minutes. Natasha is _constantly_ checking up on Bruce, who has borrowed Tony’s Hulk-Destroyer suit.

Steve turns his head away from the rushing landscape. “I’m glad you’re here, Buck.” He says, the wind loud enough to make their conversation private.

Bucky tilts his head in towards Steve’s. They’re so close that Bucky can feel Steve’s breath on his lips, and their noses are basically touching. Bucky thinks his heart’s gonna beat out of his chest and fly away. “Can’t let my punk go runnin’ into the battlefield without backup, can I?” Bucky cracks a smile, even though it has a sad undertone that lies hidden.

Steve returns the gesture, then brings a hand up to cup Bucky’s cheek, and leans his forehead against his. “I missed you so much,” Steve’s voice cracks on the last words.

“I missed you, too.” Bucky murmurs back in the same tone. “Thought I was gonna go crazy not being able to see you.”

He looks up into Steve’s baby blues, and sees his own expression reflected there. Happiness, yet a deep melancholy shadows their eyes. They’d both been through so much. Seen so much. And here they were, men out of their time, sharing something that no one will ever be able to take away.

Ever so slightly, Steve leans in closer, and his hand slides up Bucky’s arm and stops at the crook of his neck. Bucky’s heart is doing an olympic gymnastics routine in his chest while he tips his head back just the smallest bit, and their lips almost brush.

Someone clears their throat beside them, and Bucky startles back quickly. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” T’Challa drawls. “But we’re here.”

Sure enough, they had reached the edge of the dome. How had the time passed so quickly? Bucky gives Steve a longing glance, and his chest gives a little flutter when Steve is gazing at him in the same way.

The other tribes are chanting in an ancient language that Bucky doesn’t understand; some type of call and response. Steve and Bucky stand close to each other while T’Challa and M’Baku exchange words. Steve looks like he’s about to say something, but Natasha comes and stands between them.

Two aliens, one hulking and one thin and lythe, stand just outside the barrier wall. Steve, Natasha, and T’Challa approach them, and they begin discussing something out of Bucky’s bigger-than-usual earshot.

The smaller alien, who still has a good three inches on Steve, raises their sword. Bucky realizes, with increasing unease, that the spaceships are releasing something. Steve comes back to stand beside him. “Did they surrender?” Bucky asks, but he already knows the answer.

“Not exactly.” Steve replies, expression grim.

Bucky lowers his voice. “When this is all over,” He whispers. “Can we talk?”

Steve looks momentarily confused, but answers, “Sure, Buck. We _are_ going to tour the city together, you know. Unless you backed out of that while I wasn’t looking.”

Bucky licks his lips in embarrassment. “Yeah, right.” He mumbles.

The alien throws down their sword, and hoards of six-legged creatures pour from the forest.

“What the hell?” Bucky snarls.

“Looks like we pissed her off.” Natasha replies offhandedly.

The aliens hit the barrier, clawing and screeching. They break through partway all along the barrier, various limbs and parts being chewed off by the advanced tech.

“They’re killing themselves.” One of T’Challa’s warriors says, horror standing clear in her eyes.

Across the border, aliens push through and rush to the raging river and splash through it like it’s nothing.

M’Baku shouts something, and the warriors put their shields up.

They raise their spear-like weapons on T’Challa’s command, and fire at the oncoming monsters. Bucky takes his cue and hefts his rifle, before firing away at the enemy.

His bullets bite smoothly into their flesh, to Bucky’s relief, and they each only take one to two bullets to kill. They fall around him with satisfying _thumps_ , but Bucky knows that they’re only the first on his kill list for the day.

Bruce is firing away at the intruders with his repulsers as well, but there are still some that manage to get frighteningly close to the edge of their ranks. Sam flies out from behind him, sending his drones and rockets after their opponent.

“You see the teeth on those things?” He howls incredulously.

“Alright, back up, Sam.” Rhodey says, ignoring Sam’s comment completely. “You’re gonna get your wings singed.” Rhodey flies across the interior of the border dropping bomb shells, and Bucky winces, old memories resurfacing.

“You okay?” Steve asks over the boom of explosions.

Bucky barely glances at him, trying to keep his resolve. “Doin’ alright.”

Around the clearing smoke, Bucky can see clearly that the aliens are spreading around the outside of the barrier. He’s about to announce it over the comms, but Bruce beats him to it.

“Cap, if these things circle the perimeter and get behind us, there’s nothing between them and Vision.” He warns.

“Then we’d better keep them in front of us.” Steve says.

“How do we do that?” Okoye asks.

T’Challa swallows roughly. “We open up the barrier.” Okoye looks at him like he’s gone mad, but he says anyway, “On my signal, open north-west section seventeen.”

The dome control’s voice crackles back into his earpiece. “Request confirmation, my King,” The voice begins. “You said _open_ the barrier?”

T’Challa nods, even though the person on the other line cannot see him. “On my signal.” He repeats.

“This will be the end of Wakanda,” M’Baku says gravely, mostly to himself.

“Then it will be the noblest ending in _history_.” Okoye growls.

Steve’s shield extends out farther so that it covers his whole fist, and T’Challa lets out another cry in his native language.

The cloaked warriors break apart, and the shield is broken. T’Challa steps ahead of their neat formation. “Wakanda forever!” He shouts.

He crosses his arms over his chest. His mask forms over his head, and his claws come out. He begins running forward, and his army follows.

Bucky runs after them, still shooting at the oncoming aliens.

“ _Now!_ ” T’Challa yells, and the barrier in front of them flickers, and then goes out.

The aliens pour in like a raging river free of its dam. Steve starts to pull ahead of him, running alongside T’Challa, leaving Bucky staring after him. He shakes his head. Classic Steve, rushing into battle. He’s gonna tire himself out before he even _gets_ to the monsters, for God's sake. And now he’s got someone else who is _just as stupid as him._

Steve and T’Challa get to the battle a few seconds before the rest of their army. Steve immediately tackles one of the aliens, ripping into its chest with his shields and spraying black blood.

Bucky loses sight of him when two monsters tackle him. Bucky shoots one of them and punches his metal fist straight through the other. He latches his fingers to the inside of the beast and swings it around, crashing it into another alien that was trying to sneak up on him. He rips his hand out of its body and tosses the twitching corpse to the side. He pulls a hunting knife from his pant leg as he leaps into the air and buries the hilt into the neck of the third alien with a satisfying _crunch_.

He stands quickly and begins firing at the other soldier’s attackers, his knife still in his hand. A huge beast with a good two feet on him swats his gun out of his hand and throws him to the ground. The beast crowds Bucky with its bulk, and Bucky begins slashing and stabbing with his hunting knife blindly, his hand stained black.

The creature goes limp on him, and he throws off the bulk. He sees everyone around him each fighting their own separate battle, all sorely losing. Bruce has at least ten of the aliens all clawing at his suit, and Bucky can’t see T’Challa or Steve.

His first thought is to look for Steve, but he stops himself. _He’s not just a skinny kid from Brooklyn anymore, he’s Captain America,_ Bucky reminds himself. _He doesn’t need your help._

So Bucky retrieves his lost rifle from the ground and begins taking down his comrades opponents. He pulls the trigger again, but nothing happens. _He’s run out of bullets._ Of course that’s the time that three of them jump on top of him, and Bucky is just kicking and screaming, his rifle a useless stick in his hand. Desperately, Bucky reaches for a tiny pistol strapped to his boot, but it gets flung out of his hand. He knows he’s not going to be able to win this fight now, but he keeps trying, keeps fighting, because after everything that’s happened, it can’t end like this. It _can’t._

Just then, a huge blast of multicolored light hits right near Bucky, and he and his attackers are thrown to the side. It’s all the opening he needs to get back up, retrieve his rifle and pistol, and shoot the three aliens each cleanly in the chest.

He whips around when a _flying axe comes from out of nowhere right behind him,_ crackling with electricity that’s making his hair stand on end. It barrels off towards a clump of aliens, disintegrating every beast it comes near without even touching it? It’s safe to say that Bucky is _very confused._

When it hits the clump of aliens, they all die instantly, leaving Steve lying on the ground, his hair sticking up all directions. He catches Bucky’s eye and gives him a confused smile and a thumbs up, and Bucky smiles back, before training his attention on the glowing rays of light. Eventually, after taking a trip around the entire battle field and taking out seventy five aliens at _least,_ the axe flies back into the shining tunnel, and the light ceases.

If Bucky thought he was confused before, there isn’t a word for what he’s feeling now. Standing in a scorched patch of grass was a _tree, a racoon, and a beefy dude with electricity crackling off of him._

Bruce pulls his faceplate back and laughs, “Ha! You guys are so screwed now!”

The Beefy Dude sees the two unique aliens, and begins stalking towards them like a predator. “Bring me Thanos!” He howls.

Okay, so not hostile. Third party maybe? Bucky doesn’t know.

The tree begins to scream as well, taking off running alongside Beefy Dude. Storm clouds rage above Beefy Dude, which seem to have appeared out of nowhere. Thunder cracks overhead and lightning flashes. Okay, now Beefy Dude is floating, but what else was new?

Bucky takes the opportunity to reload his rifle, and shoots the distracted aliens around him. The monsters must take this as a queue, because they immediately began fighting again, most of them surging towards Beefy Dude and Walking Tree.

“ _Aaaaarg! Come and get some, Space Dogs!”_

Bucky turns around to see Racoon, holding a strange type of gun, probably alien, and thinks _why the fuck not? You got a screaming tree, might as well add on a racoon that talks._ Without another thought, Bucky latches onto the back of the racoon’s suit, lifting him into the air with one hand. He spins the racoon around while he fires at their enemy with his other arm, all the while the racoon cackles maniacally, “Come and get some! _Come! And! Get! Some!”_

He drops the animal and resumes firing with more control, and the racoon asks him seriously, “How much for the gun?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Not for sale.” He grunts.

“Okay,” The racoon says. “What about the arm?”

Bucky shoots down every alien within a ten meter radius, and pauses only briefly to glare down at the racoon. He scans the throng for Steve, but finds something much more unsettling.

“They’re going around the outside!” Bucky yells into his earpiece over the screams of aliens and warriors alike. He lifts his rifle, takes aim, and fires down a good two dozen before they can escape into the treeline. “I’ll keep them in front of us!”

Bucky dashes off after the remaining invading aliens who have sped off into the Wakandan forest.

By the time he gets to the edge, there is no sign of the monsters, only broken and crushed bushes. He stalks across the path, his footfalls as silent as a cat’s. The only sounds he picks up is from the spring breeze gently tossing the blooming branches.

Bucky whirls around when he hears the snap of a twig, and shoots. The alien cries out as it falls to the ground. It convulses once, and then goes still.

Bucky grunts in surprise when at least five beasts jump out at him. They tear at his uniform, and Bucky whacks them as hard as he can with his rifle. He’s starting to panic, because he doesn’t seem to be doing any damage _at all._ He slashes out his hunting knife, catching one’s shoulder and swiping cleanly through the joint and burying itself in the flesh of the dangling limb. It does nothing for him, though, because the other four aliens are still on him, and he’s now lost all of his weapons.

Then Steve is there. He swoops in and throws off two of Bucky’s attackers, and it’s enough of an opening. Bucky’s on his feet again, his back pressed against Steve’s. Bucky punches a monster with his metal fist, and it goes flying off to the edge of the clearing. Bucky aims and quickly plants four bullets in the alien’s head.

Bucky takes out two more new aliens with his rifle before they recover from their run in with Steve. Steve has the last monster pinned, and the arm Bucky had already got his hands on was lying a few feet away. With a shout, Steve throws his fist down and digs the point of his shield deep into the beast’s chest.

He smiles at Bucky, his right arm resting on top of his shield. He stands, and begins to limp towards Bucky when the alien lunges forward and sinks its teeth into Steve’s calf. Thick black venom mixes with Steve’s blood, and Bucky watches in horror as Steve tumbles to the ground.

“No!” Bucky screams. He shoots the alien again and again until it stops moving once and for all.

“Steve,” Bucky whimpers, before he drops his gun and rushes to Steve’s side. He pulls Steve’s torso into his lap, and Steve stares blearily up at him.

“I didn’t see that comin’,” Steve jokes lightly, even though the alien poison is seeping into his wound and beginning to course through his body.

“I can’t always be there for you, you little punk. You gotta stay safe for me.” Bucky replies shakily, forcing a good-natured smile through teary eyes.

Steve gazes at him for a second, his small smile fading. Tears are pooling in his eyes. “God, Buck, I’m so sorry.”

Bucky brushes a sweat-soaked lock of hair out of Steve’s eyes. “Sorry for what?”

Steve looks away from Bucky’s eyes. “‘M sorry I didn’t tell you--” Steve coughs weakly, his chest shuttering.

“Shhh,” Bucky says, sweeping his fingers through Steve’s hair to support his head until his cough eases. “Tell me what?” He prompts gently.

A tear falls from Steve’s eye and beads on his uniform. “‘M sorry I didn’t tell you that,” Steve swallows roughly, his throat bobbing. He continues shakily, “that I love you.”

Bucky blinks because those were the last words he’d ever expected to fall from Steve’s lips. He can’t help but stutter, “That you what?”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, and another tear leaks out of his eyes. “Oh god, you hate me now,” he whimpers.

“Steve,” Bucky laughs. “I love you too.” He says fondly, choking up a bit. “‘V loved you my whole life.”

Steve looks back at Bucky now, and his eyes seem hopeful. “You do?” He asks tentatively.

Bucky gives him a watery smile. “Yeah.” Bucky’s eyes slide down Steve’s face, and land on his lips. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Steve nods eagerly. “Good,” He breathes, before continuing stronger, “good, yes I’d like that.” He smiles shyly at Bucky.

Bucky’s hand cups Steve’s jaw gingerly. He pauses for a moment, before he leans down to taste the lips he’s been dreaming about since he was fourteen.

Steve kisses back slowly, his eyes fluttering closed because he _can’t believe this is finally happening_. Bucky tastes so good, and so human, Steve wishes he wouldn’t ever break away.

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut, tears spilling out and rolling down his cheeks. He feels himself breaking. He thinks he should be happy, but all he feels is immense grief and loss.

“Bucky, do you copy?” Natasha’s voice sounds in his ear. “Bucky? Steve’s not responding-“

Bucky clasps his hand around his earpiece and rips it out.

He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against Steve’s, crying softly. Steve coughs weakly, and Bucky can see black sneaking up his neck, and Bucky’s resolve slips away. “Hold on for me, okay? Listen to my voice, we’re gonna get through this, okay? Stay with me, stay with me.”

Veins of black are staining Steve’s hands when he reaches up to brush away Bucky’s tears. “I’m sorry.” Steve says, his voice shaking.

A choking sob escapes Bucky. “Please, Stevie, hold on. Please.”

The poison is seeping up the side of Steve’s face, twisting and curling. “I love you, Buck.” Steve murmurs. He plants a soft kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose, and sighs out his last breath.

“Steve, Steve, Steve come back to me!” Bucky cries. “Please, hold on. Hold on for me, Steve.” His head falls onto Steve’s still chest. “Please,” Bucky’s voice breaks, and he sobs into Steve. “I can’t live without you, I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”

Bucky raises his head slowly, his eyes bleary. “I love you,” he whispers, a prayer, before pressing a passionate kiss to Steve’s cooling lips.

Bucky’s insides are breaking. Someone has ripped their hand through his chest and pulled out his heart. He’s spinning, spinning, spinning into an abyss deeper than anything he’s ever known.

There’s an explosion of yellow light nearby, and Bucky knows he should help, but he can’t leave his Steve, the same Steve who was sick more often than not, who’s frail body couldn’t keep warm by itself, who’s little artistic hands fit so nicely in his own. His Steve was lying here, cold and _dead_.

Bucky’s never cried so hard in his life. He’s weak, empty, _gone_ . He doesn’t want to face the others, to act like everything’s okay because it’s _not_. His tears roll down Steve’s uniform and mix with the blood drying on his chest. Rays of sun pool through the branches, lighting up Steve’s beautiful face, and Bucky can almost imagine that he’s just sleeping.

Bucky suddenly feels light, like a feather. He can’t feel his feet or hands. The hand cupping Steve’s face suddenly begins to fall apart, blowing away in the soft breeze. Bucky’s dying, and he knows it.

It’s something he’s certain about. He’s finished, he’s _done_. He promised Steve till the end of the line. He’s late, you see. Steve got off at the last stop, and Bucky’d hate to keep him waiting.

He watches with strange relief as his arm follows, and then his shoulder. He’s going away to a world without pain, a world without monsters to fight, or evils to kill. He’s going to be with Steve. Bucky leans down to press one last kiss to Steve’s forehead before he drifts away in the wind, and Steve’s body is left alone in the peaceful spring clearing.

The battle rages on in the distance, but the sound of a nearby creek flowing softly over the rocks and birds chirping makes it seem far away. The grass is green and flowers bloom, unfurling their petals to the spring sun. A gopher pokes its head out of a nearby hole, and a butterfly flutters by, blue wings catching the bright sunlight. It’s a beautiful day.

A far too beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it, folks! 
> 
> I'm definitely going to post more, there's no way I'm done with these two dorks yet. The next ones won't be as sad, I think. We'll see ;)


End file.
